


Meine esoterisch Gedanken

by StarShroudedSkies



Category: Jroleplay (The Centricide Webseries Roleplay)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Gender Dysphoria, Near Death Experiences, Original Character(s), Other, Psychological Trauma, References to Depression, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26627995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarShroudedSkies/pseuds/StarShroudedSkies
Summary: This is in essence, a journal written by Sascha (Posado-Nazbol). This will go more in-depth to their thoughts, feelings and actions during the events that play out in the interactions they have with characters. Each chapter will be titled with the date in the German dating system instead of the US's Month/Date/Year system in an attempt to clear up confusion.
Kudos: 7





	1. 20.9 -  Hier stimmts etwas nicht.

Today was quite the day, I’ll say… After being ready for ice skating, which was duly postponed I went off to do some things with Winston. Pietra looks completely excited for the event too so I was quite disappointed about not doing it today. I was looking forward to a break from the stresses of life but that didn’t see to be the case as I was thrown right into the fray once more.

Being out there with Winston made me realize how much I’ve lacked in actually talking to them. I’ve learned so much of what was happening in their life that I didn’t stop to question it all. Now that I have the time to write about it however, this allows me to sit upon these thoughts. First of all, it was probably the most shocking to find my… “child” being involved with Winston in such a complex manner that I have never caught onto, simply due to my pure negligence of them. When I was trying to grasp the situation of the warehouse, I was most certainly off put by Illegalism. He made me feel the most… stupid for not being able to figure this out on my own. I am clearly aware of the fact that they hate each other. I just did not ask for sass on this notion. He made me feel like absolute shit, to say the least. I was already aware of my lackluster intelligence and I did not need it to be reinforced further by someone else. Whatever I suppose, he was probably closer to Winston than I was. He had every right to rip into me, to my insolence of being a bad friend and comrade…. I should have known these things anyways if I had just talked to them. God, I really am the largest idiot aren’t I?

To the point that I was poorly attempting to getting to, is the fact that ever since Winston and I had tea it feels like we’ve gotten the most distant. I was not aware of his relationship with Ep and how much of a toll that has taken on them. It’s clear that it has most certainly messed with them ever since they had first started to interact with them. It is clear that Winston has no idea how to handle their emotions that they feel for him. I mean, for fucks sake I watched from a distance as Winston used their new weapon to shock the shit out of him. As a parent, I should have intervened and not let Winston hurt my child. As a friend, I feel as if Ep truly deserved what he had gotten as mistreatment of them. I mean, for fucks sake… The man buried Winston’s clothing under the ground, covered everything they owned in honey, trashed their place and made them put on a dress as that’s the only article of clothing he had left. That is to the extent I only know of as I have a feeling these interactions run much deeper than from what I know from Winston directly. The fear on their face and how they clung to me when they saw those rats. I think Winston may have been severely traumatized from them but I am unsure of how to properly elaborate on that considering they were very dismissive on talking to me further after we had retrieved their clothing.

I felt seen… I felt at most weak when Winston had to help me to the car after the intensive labor I had done. When Winston indicated to my chest, I felt something in me stop. Nonetheless, at the time I was much too tired to say much on the subject or rip off their head from their neck as a result. I was fuming… No one else besides Pietra knew of it and it adds to the shame of it really. Someone else knows and without much of my consent for that matter. But then again, Winston would probably retort along the lines of “It is my job to ensure the productivity of each Prole and therefore must monitor you at all times.” As much as I appreciate where the thought comes from, I cannot help but feel like I want to rip my hair out in frustration at the pure shame that someone else knows. I still am reeling about that fact so that is why I am repeating that I suppose. I guess… that is all for today. I wish I could elaborate more but I guess sometimes I wish I could say sorry to them. I miss talking to them, even if it was just short interactions between the both of us.


	2. 21.9 - Meine Ehefrau wie ich dich liebe

Today, I had one of the best yet one of the worst days of my life; It seems selfish of me to say that, really. To be honest, I cannot purely elaborate on how I exactly feel. The words themselves fail me at the moment. I go from picking up one of my children, bleeding out on the floor. Just like her, now just like them… The image of her bleeding out on the floor is forever sealed into my mind. Whenever I see her, I cannot help but reminiscence on the moment itself... Whatever, I suppose. I’ll just have to ignore it all, no matter how the days blur. It just feels like the same incessant repetition of events. It’s an awful feeling, to be apathetic towards the pains of the role I undertook simply because it’s a common occurrence. In reality, it shouldn’t be this way but it is. Every time, I wash away the filth of my sorrows in bottles only to wake up having the same heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach… The cameras will only pose a temporary solution, they’d find a way around it. They’ll find their ways around me to be able to get what they want. If she couldn’t stop them, then who’s to say I can. One day, I bet I’ll end up having to put them all in their own personal graveyard. It’ll be my fault and mine alone.

I’M NOTHING.

I’m not good enough. I’ll never be worth anything… I tell myself I will, I’ll go ahead and try and all it does is bring me to step one. Back to this awful system, I know it is. But I’ll play into it… We all will. It was stupid of me to cry, cry about my son saying I’m not a burden, crying about Elsie saying she appreciates me, crying about Bobby saying I’m the best person he knows, crying about the undeserved attention I get from my ̶p̶a̶r̶t̶n̶e̶r̶ wife.

That’s right, somehow I’m getting married. It’s all so overwhelming, to be honest. God, what would anyone who knew me before would say? To a woman, no less. I love her, that is an indisputable fact, of course. But I cannot help but feel a deep sense of shame and loathing coming from myself. This binder I wear everyday is a constant reminder that I never will like myself in the body I have. It’s detrimental. One part of me wants to fulfill this opportunity I’ve been given, to be this “man” I’ve always aspired to be. I do however realize that this is a mere glorification and that I cannot say with full confidence that I am… a man. Then there’s the nurture aspect of it all, the expectations, the future I have to live up to. I was born with the body of a woman and I should apply it for its intended purposes. To be a housewife, to birth children, find nothing more to life than that. To be complacent in my position seems so comfortable, really it does. It doesn’t change the fact that I am at the end of the day… In love with someone of the same sex. 

DEGENERATE

A word to be associated with people that do not uphold traditional values. One that I uphold every single day, living my life as the Aryan man I always wanted to be. But at the same time, I tell others around them what is and isn’t “degenerate” under these same pretenses. I lay awake at night sometimes, wondering where did it all go wrong. What made me this way, why am I so utterly disgusting. Why couldn’t I have just been able to end up in the arms of that man one day. Why did I run away in shame at the thought of having children? Why does my brain make me go against EVERYTHING I was told. Everything I was taught. Why can’t I say no, no to the desire, to my wants. I will never be able to admit these things to anyone but myself. 

I am… I am a degenerate. Apparently, no matter how hard I try I am never able to change my ways. As far as I’m aware, with my soon to be married status I don’t think I ever will. I hope I don’t live to regret the choices I’ve made thus far to live as myself with all this filth. As far as I’m aware of though, I cannot say I can right now. I don’t regret it all, I… I am proud to say I cannot hate the relationship I am in. I just sometimes wish I’d be able to be proud of it. I… No matter how hard I try, I will always will live under a facade of falsities of how I was raised and she goes along with it. I wonder how much it affects her? She is by definition, openly degenerate and unabashedly vocal when pressed about such things. I know she probably was in the same position as I am, given how we both held these values to a greater standard than our own being at least that is what I assume of those of Aryan descent. Sometimes, I wish I had that confidence to be openly degenerate… But given who I am, the idea itself just isn’t meant to be. Is closed doors degeneracy enough for her…? Will she find herself fed up with the hole I’ve buried myself in and leave me? It’s a thought I’ve brewed on quite a lot… even more given the current circumstances.


	3. 22.9 - Meine Löwenjunge mit eine Krone

It was hard to get out of bed today, it was just…one of those days I suppose. Though I will say, it isn’t the first time this happened either. I remember crying when I didn’t have the energy to get up, everyday it feels like it’s becoming harder to do so. The weight of reality hangs so clearly and I cannot seem to keep up right now. I just want to feel like I can get out of bed with the same energy as I did before days ago. I don’t want to feel like crying out in frustration or agony at any chance I seem to be functioning and living as myself. Even as I try to do so, the tears themselves won’t flow from my eyes anymore. I know damn well I cannot keep living like this anymore, the same situation Pietra was in. The only thing I could say is different is I don’t experience the same physical scarring and pain as she ever had experienced… But I can understand the emotional turmoil. A fool would go and run off to fight Jaz, of which I am not one. They may have damaged my family and ripped into them emotionally I just cannot bring myself to do so. I don’t want to put someone else in the same position as myself. I don’t want them to see me bleeding out on the floor, dying as I constantly would and will have to do for them. I don’t want them to see me struggle, to cry out for help. . . I don’t want my tough facade to slip any further than it already has for them. I may have named Edward a fool and Pietra a martyr for this trait but no matter how much I try… I display this trait as well ever since I became a parent. 

Everyday, there seems to always be a new struggle, new open wounds, old pains brought towards the surface. Today, it was seeing one of my sons, Edward, branded with that same ever knowing flower and the ground painted in his blood. The precision in which it is carved into the flesh, done with the purpose of remembrance. I don’t think I’d ever want to be in that same position, the receiving end on one of these scars. I can never seem to get over just how much it hurts to look at on them when I start to patch them up. The first one was on Pietra, then on Elsie and now on him. It’s always the same buzz of emotions, the same pooling of crimson around their form as Jaz stands over them, everything is just a mere repetition. Is it sick of me to say that I am used to this? Is it disgusting to say, I know how this will end and that someone else just ends up getting a flower on their body? The same scene unfolding around me as it always does? I guess that seems very realistic given the current circumstances but that doesn’t really excuse the almost pure apathy I display when I recall them all. All except one, due to the pure significant of this and the start of the ceaseless cycle of decay that I find myself in. 

I’d yell at him at his pure foolishness if I didn’t know that he did this knowing full well the consequences he’d get out of this. He has seen the scars on Elsie, seen Pietra leave, it just doesn’t make sense to me at all. I would have let him die there if I didn’t feel a sense of attachment and responsibility for him. For as much as I want to say that this hasn’t broke me, it has in a way I didn’t think it could. Lyndon has consistently told me to leave them to rot for their idiocy and force them to learn the hard way… For some reason, this idea becomes more and more tempting by the day. It’s not like I matter as much to everyone compared to my wife. I’m just “that auth that dates my mom” and nothing more. I’m not the best at this either and my attempts seem to fall short compared to her. I was better off not caring about them before. I just had myself to worry about and even then the expectations were set pretty low. I wouldn’t have to feel these things that I do, the attachment, the care that I try to put forth but I cannot make myself not feel this way. I’ve tried to help the others who haven’t came closer towards me on their own but it’s hard. I don’t want to force something that won’t ever come. I wonder if any of them subconsciously hate me for trying to kill Egoist that one time. . . It doesn’t matter I guess, no matter how much I feel this way. Pietra is coming back as their parent and I have to fill that role with her as well given that we are getting married. I hope this will make things easier, will make me feel better about this.


End file.
